


The Rules Are For Breaking (I'll Tell Ya)

by orphan_account



Series: Spice Up Your Life [3]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always the Opposite Sex, Angry Sex, F/F, F/M, Genderswap, Phone Sex, Pillow Fight, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-05
Updated: 2012-04-05
Packaged: 2017-11-03 02:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Getzy is sick and wants a bedtime story -- a <i>sexy</i> bedtime story. Bobbi tells him about that time she and Kaner let off some steam during the Olympics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rules Are For Breaking (I'll Tell Ya)

**Author's Note:**

> includes current bobbi/getzy, past bobbi/kaner, and off-screen kaner/tazer, in the universe where bobbi, kaner, and tazer are all women. (kaner is patricia to her mother and trish or kaner to everybody else; tazer's birth certificate says jeannine andrée toews, but everybody's always called her janie or tazer.) 
> 
> for the olympics, i shamelessly moved b. ryan's goal from the men's game against switzerland to the women's game against sweden.
> 
> the title is from "do it" by the spice girls.

Bobbi's noodling around on her guitar, filling up the time before her nap and then her workout. She's thinking about looking up the chord progression to a Taylor Swift song, maybe "Our Song" or something, when her phone rings.

It's Getzy. "Hi, lazy," she says, since he missed their morning optional practice.

"I'm not lazy," he says pathetically.

"You sound like your nose is full of wet socks," Bobbi says. "Are you okay?"

"I feel like I've been run over by a truck," Getzy says. "I think I have the flu."

"Aw, I'm sorry, bud." Bobbi puts down the guitar. "Do you need... I don't know, soup? Medicine?"

"I took a bunch of stuff already. I miss you, Bobbi," he says. "But I don't want to get you sick. That would be so sad, if you were sick, Bobbi."

Bobbi covers her mouth with her hand so he can't hear her giggle. "What kind of meds did you take, buddy?"

"I don't know, I'll check." There's a rattling sound. "Mucinex, Nyquil, Sudafed, Wal-tussin, Nyquil... did I say that already?"

"Yeah, you did." No wonder he sounds drunk -- he probably is! "Are you sure you're okay alone? I could, uh, I could wear a mask or something?" Bobbi doesn't exactly think she'd make a good nurse, but she's pretty sure she could keep Getzy from... from burning the house down, or something.

"Nooo, Bobbi, no," Getzy says. "My neighbor brought me soup, and she's gonna check on me later."

"Oh, good," Bobbi says. That's a relief. "Well, I hope you feel better soon. I, uh... I miss you too?"

"You do?" Even through his nose full of socks, Getzy sounds happy about that. Bobbi's glad he can't see her blush.

"Yeah, of course I do, bud." It's true, even if it feels weird to say.

"Will you tell me a bedtime story?" Getzy asks.

Bobbi blinks. "Like... Cinderella?" she hedges.

Getzy sneezes, then blows his nose like a trumpeting elephant. "Not that kind of bedtime story," he says crankily. "The _sexy_ kind."

" _Oh,_ " Bobbi says. Phone sex! That makes more sense. It also makes her a little less worried about him. "Um... what kind of sexy bedtime story?"

"Tell me about you and Kaner at the Olympics!"

"Really?" But that really happened, Bobbi thinks. Isn't phone sex supposed to involve pretending you're wearing sexy clothes and making stuff up?

"That's what I want to hear about," Getzy says.

"Okay," Bobbi says dubiously. She stretches out on her bed, looks at the silver medal over her desk, and begins. "So, we were in our room after the game against Sweden --"

"In your underwear?" Getzy asks hopefully.

"Who's telling this story, you or me? -- Yes, in our underwear." That's actually true, but Bobbi's pretty sure Getzy's imagining something more exciting than sports bras and briefs. "Anyway, I scored in that game, and she didn't."

"Good work, Silver," Getzy says.

"Thank you," Bobbi says. "So we were both all, you know, full of adrenaline and everything, but Kaner was..." She tries to think of the best way to describe Trish's post-game mood.

"Hopping around like a coked-up monkey?" Getzy suggests.

Bobbi giggles. "Exactly! And I thought maybe we'd play Xbox or something, crash a bunch of cars, but Kaner had other ideas."

"Sexy ideas?"

"Not yet, I'm getting there." Bobbi kicks her feet in the air, remembering how Kaner literally bounced off the walls. "She was jumping on the beds," Bobbi continues. "I was afraid she'd break something, like a lamp, or her ankle, so I was like, 'Hey, Kaner, chill out!', but that didn't work."

"I'm shocked," Getzy says, and he sounds almost as sarcastic as usual, which is impressive.

"Shut up! Then I was like, 'Trish! Quit it!', but that didn't work either. So finally, I was like, okay, Bobbi, you're going to have to pull out the big guns."

"Are the big guns your tits?"

"Not _yet,_ " Bobbi says.

"Yours _are_ bigger than hers, though," Getzy informs her seriously.

"I know! That's not what I did, though." Bobbi drops her voice to a whisper. "I called her Candy."

"You did not," Getzy says. "You're alive!"

"I did!" Bobbi insists. "I yelled, 'CANDY KANE, quit jumping on the bed NOW!'"

Getzy cracks up laughing, which turns into a coughing fit.

"Oh God, don't die," Bobbi says, worried again.

"I'm not dying. Tell me how _you_ didn't die," Getzy says.

"She jumped off the bed, all, 'What did you call me?', and I was like, 'You wouldn't listen to me!', and she was like, 'Well, listen to _this!_ ' and hit me with a pillow."

"Did she really?" Getzy asks happily. "Like in porn?"

"A lot harder than she would've in porn," Bobbi admits. "But yeah, we can't write stuff off as just hockey during the Olympics, since we can't hit, so we decided to use pillows instead."

"So you have real-life sexy pillow fights? God, I'm getting a wig for Sochi and claiming I'm my own sister."

"Like we'll be doing that again," Bobbi says, and snorts. "Even if you'd like it, I don't want Janie Toews to kill me in my sleep."

Getzy groans. "You're kidding me. Tazer and Kaner, for real?"

"For real," Bobbi says. "Pretty picture, huh, bud?"

"Not as pretty as one with you in it, baby," Getzy says. This time he manages to laugh without coughing. "So keep going."

"You keep distracting me! Anyway," Bobbi says, "she hit me with her pillow, and I hit her back with mine, and she yelled 'NEVER CALL ME THAT!', and I yelled back 'DON'T BREAK STUFF!', and she yelled 'I DO WHAT I WANT!' and went like she was going to break the lamp on purpose, so I grabbed her."

"Nice," Getzy says.

"Then she stopped yelling, at least," Bobbi says. She remembers the thunderstruck look on Kaner's face really clearly -- she shut up like flipping a switch the second Bobbi's hands clamped down on her bare shoulders. "I just grabbed her shoulders, and she stared at me for a second, and then she looked at me sort of... sleazily."

"How could you tell the difference?" Getzy asks, then cough-laughs.

"She's not sleazy when she's angry," Bobbi explains. "Or when she's doing something she cares about."

"Like making out?" Getzy guesses.

"I meant like hockey!" Bobbi pauses. "Making out, too, though."

"I bet Tazer uses that to her advantage," Getzy says. " _Sexy_ advantage."

" _Anyway,_ " Bobbi says, "she gave me this look and said, 'Hey, want to make out?' and then winked." Bobbi shifts her weight a little so the seam of her yoga pants is more comfortable. "It was, you know, kind of ridiculous... but she's pretty, and she's _really_ good at hockey, and we were so worked up already that I was pretty into it. So I kissed her."

Actually, she'd awkwardly asked if Kaner was serious, and Kaner said, "Sure I am. Makeouts are great," and grabbed Bobbi's ass. Wait, Getzy would probably like that part.

"Well, first she grabbed my ass," Bobbi corrects herself, "so I knew she was serious. _Then_ I kissed her."

"Your ass is pretty irresistible," Getzy says, pronouncing "irresistible" super slowly, like the cold medicine is kicking in.

"Thanks," Bobbi says, craning her neck to try to look at it. It just looks like a pretty normal butt to her, but she likes when people like it. Especially Getzy.

"Now the kissing part!" Getzy says happily.

"Right. So I... kissed her," Bobbi says again. Shit, she thinks. How do you describe kissing sexily? "It was nice. She kept grabbing my butt, and there was, you know, tongue and stuff."

"C'mon, Silver, you can do better than that," Getzy says. "You liked it, right?"

"Of course I did," Bobbi says, frustrated. "It was really hot, and I'm getting wet just remembering, but talking about it is _hard!_ "

"So tell me the parts that are getting you wet," he says. "Come on, you can."

"She's so much littler than me," Bobbi says. "I could just sort of... wrap around her, and she kept making these great little noises."

"Like you make?" Getzy makes some high-pitched "nnh!" noises, then cough-laughs again.

Bobbi blushes. It's a pretty good imitation. "Yeah, like that, and she told me I was really hot, and then she pulled me down on top of her." She flexes her hips, trying to get a little friction from the mattress. "And that was... I really liked seeing her on her back like that, all pink and sweaty and touching me."

"Oh, God," Getzy says.

"Are you jerking off now?" Bobbi asks, interested.

"Nah, I'm just listening to my -- you talking about fucking Trish Kane and _not_ jerking it," Getzy says. "Of course I am."

"Your me, huh?" Bobbi grins. "No, good, I am too." She shifts a little and oh, yeah, that's the spot.

" _Bobbi,_ " Getzy says, in the same tone he said "God" before. "Don't stop."

"So I was on top of her, and we kept kissing," Bobbi says, moving a little slower so she doesn't lose the thread of the story. "She stole my bodywash, so she smelled really good, not like hotel soap. And after a little while, she grabbed my butt again and kind of -- rocked up against my leg."

Getzy's just making noises now. Bobbi feels like that should be weird, like getting a creepy phone call, but she kind of likes it -- it's almost like he's there with her.

"She was wet already," Bobbi goes on, "and _hot_ , and I probably made a really dumb noise, and then I rocked down on her, and Jesus, Getzy, it felt so good." Her resolve not to get too distracted is crumbling; she really wants to touch herself more.

"Tell me," Getzy says.

Bobbi presses the heel of her hand against her clit and swallows hard. "We just -- we kept rubbing off like that, and kissing, until it was too much to concentrate." Then Bobbi had just pressed her open mouth to Kaner's throat, which felt great, but sounds stupid when she tries to phrase it out loud. Oh well, she'll move on.

"And then she said, 'Oh, fuck,' and came." Bobbi squeezes her legs together, remembering Kaner's face again. "And then she was like, 'Hey, you come too, asshole,' and I did."

"On command?" Getzy asks. "Jesus _Christ_."

"I was almost there anyway," Bobbi defends herself.

"That's so fucking hot. Can you do it now?"

She's right on the edge. "Probably," she says.

"Come for me, Bobbi," Getzy says, and God, even though he's miles away and high on cold medicine, he's _Getzy_ , and Bobbi comes like a freight train, clenching around her hands and gasping for breath.

"You too, asshole," Bobbi says, once she can remember how words work, and Getzy laughs and then groans.

"That was the best bedtime story ever," Getzy says.

"I'm glad," Bobbi tells him. "Now you should probably get some sleep."

"Bye, Bobbi. Goodnight," he says obediently, then hangs up.

Bobbi rolls onto her back and stretches luxuriously. Yeah, this is going to be a good nap. She has a -- Getzy to dream about.


End file.
